


No Wrong Way to get to Mars

by rallamajoop



Category: Venom (Movie 2018), Venom: Space Knight
Genre: Agents of the Cosmos, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Comics Fusion, Blowjobs, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, First Time, Magical Foreskin Regrowth, Other, Tattoos, alien sex pollen, dubcon, five things, tongue porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-11-01 14:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20816417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rallamajoop/pseuds/rallamajoop
Summary: In which Venom fails to talk Eddie into having a threesome, discovers the Freudian slip, joins the resistance, takes a detailed interest in his new host body, and accidentally regenerates a particularly sensitive bit of anatomy – but not necessarily in that order.Alternately titled:The Five Eddie/Venom First Times I Am Not Writing (And The One I Did)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since falling into this fandom, I have read plenty of brilliant movieverse!Eddie/Venom fic, but been inevitably frustrated by that old problem of all the Incredibly Specific Fic I Want To Read But Which Somehow No-one Has Written For Me Yet. Of which there are _a lot_.* 
> 
> I do not have nearly enough time to write it all myself, so I settled for picking the traditional five different scenarios to post together. All will be nominal Eddie/Venom first-times, with the caveat that (because how you get them there has always been at least half the fun for me) all but one will be fade-to-black. 
> 
> Tags and rating to be updated as it becomes relevant. Be warned: we’re starting these at the shallow end. 
> 
> * Let the record show I have nothing against the ever-popular “Eddie panics about his feelings, pines and represses”-formula, but gosh it is a bit ubiquitous around these parts, and _gosh_ but there are _so many other angles_ you could take on them! Where are all the fic that really delves into that thing where Venom seems to fall in love with Eddie almost on contact (and later Anne too)? Where’s the weird, messy body-worship that comes of a body being shared, the competing headcanons about Eddie’s tattoos, the fic which uses Venom’s ability to phase through any part of Eddie’s skin as part of their sex life, the fic which deals with the obviously toxic symbiote culture Venom’s just starting to break away from…
> 
> (Please note: These are not just hypotheticals, and I am very open to recs if they exist.)
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First up, I've always wanted to see more done with how Venom ends the film so _very_ invested in getting Annie back into Eddie's (and his own) life. Even if threesomes (which I _have_ seen done well for this fandom) aren't your thing, there are still ALL those lovely implications of Venom having fallen for Anne so quickly, or you could cast _Eddie _as the jealous one for a change... or you could try something like this.

1\. The one where Venom is _really_ up for a threesome (but isn't getting one)

  


**Eddie. Eddie, it is happening. **

"Whu?” Eddie wakes to the fading dregs of a really nice, _wasted_ dream, a demanding parasitic headmate, and a real, sleep-induced uncertainty as to where one ends and the other begins. If Venom wants a midnight snack, he doesn't see why they both have to be awake for it. Eddie rolls his hips lazily against the mattress and hopes that if he thinks it loud enough, Venom will let him get back to sleep. 

He's comfortable and doesn't want to move—not out of bed, anyway. Another lazy roll of his hips sends a lovely frisson of warmth through his groin, and... oh. _Oh_._ That's _why Venom's suddenly interested. "Did you... did you wake me up for a _boner?_” The reality of the situation starts sinking in as he wakes up. "Oh god. Is this your _first_ boner?” 

**It is **_**our **_**first boner.**

"Huh. Guess so.” 

**We need Anne, **says Venom, a trifle reproachfully. One of the things about sharing a head with someone is that it can be almost impossible to hide any real subtext in a statement that won't come blaring through to your listener, and Venom rarely bothers to try. He doesn't say, _All this time you could've spent getting Anne back like I told you to, and now look where we are_. Eddie picks it up just fine—or would have, if he'd been more awake. 

"What? Why would we need Anne?” 

**We have been inside her before. We would like to be again. **

Well _there's _a thought that goes straight to Eddie's groin. "You and me both, buddy,” he sighs into his pillow. "Doesn't mean it's going to happen.” 

Venom hesitates. **In your memories, it is always **_**better**_** with Anne. **

Eddie frowns. Something clicks in his head. "Is _that _why you've been on me to get back with her?” 

Venom's silence is willing to neither confirm or deny the role Eddie's memories of sex-with-Anne might-or-might-not have played in his investment in rekindling that relationship. 

"Well, you can forget it, buddy. Even if we still had any chance with Anne, no way in hell would she be up for a booty call across town at 3 AM just so you can enjoy your first experience of morning wood to the fullest.” 

Venom grudgingly seems to accept this. **We could find someone else. **

Oh, wouldn't that be nice. "Uh, yeah. See, the problem there, now _you're_ in the picture, is most girls _don't_ appreciate getting invited to a surprise threesome on a random hook-up. Even if you're paying them. No offense, buddy, but you're a little hard to explain.” 

**You would not have to explain us to Anne. **

"Yeaaahh,” Eddie agrees—put like that, maybe there is some sense to Venom's fixation on Anne as an option, "but she's not available. Especially not here and now, since it's still 3 AM.” 

A brief feeling, deep in Eddie's gut, of something like indigestion, suggests that Venom is accepting this only under protest. **Then what do we do about this? **Eddie feels his hips twitch involuntarily, and is reminded that, oh yeah, they're having this awkward conversation in the presence of a _third_ party with a mind of its own, that third party being Eddie's dick. Okay, so going back to sleep is officially not an option. 

"Well,” says Eddie carefully, "maybe you've picked up that, _traditionally_, most guys tend to put in some _practice_ orgasms solo before getting anyone else involved.” 

**You do not need practice. **

"No, but it's _your_ first time, right? Maybe you could learn a thing or two. Not much else you can do with a midnight boner.” Eddie presses the heal of his hand lightly into the outline of his erection through the fabric of his boxers, and _ooh_, that's nice. 

**Hmph. **_**Fine**_**. **Venom plainly considers this the inferior option—which, considering the sum total of his human sexual experience amounts to the porn-channel in Eddie's mind, is a little presumptuous. Does Venom really think Eddie was going to trust him with someone _else's _genitals on his first time? 

"Hey, don't be like that. I'll take care of this, you just... whatever.” Looks like it's up to Eddie to show him that there's still fun to be had doing this solo. Or as close to solo as he gets, these days. 

So maybe Venom has a point about a lazy wank being a bit of a let-down when you were expecting company, but he's got a point to make now, and an audience, and he means to make it worth their while. 

  


* * *

  


1a. Bonus Ficlet: A few lines of dialogue from the one where Venom _does_ talk Eddie into trying some threesomes, but not with Anne, and the result goes about as well as could be expected  
(...because sometimes, what you have is less a fic than a punchline)

  


**Eddie. **_**Eddie**_**. We should find another girl to join us tonight.**

"_Another_ one? You tried to _eat _the last girl we brought home!” 

**She was **_**bad**_**, Eddie! Even you agreed she was bad!**

"Being _bad at sex_ is not an eating offense, oh my god.” 

**We should find one like the one before. We **_**liked**_** her!**

"You mean the one who got one look at you the morning after and _ran out of here screaming_?” 

**...do you think we could convince her to come back?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was _supposed_ to be the one where Venom decides he wants a long and detailed look at 'his' new body (ie. Eddie's), but then I found myself with too many ideas for my own take on the old post-movie-battle-pre-epilogue scenario, which seemed to fit in this one better than anywhere else... and by then, it was the longest by a considerable margin. But here's the result.

2\. The one where Venom wants a better look at his new home (or, the one that was meant to be that one, but which got away from me on the way there)

Eddie doesn't get more than a couple of hours to process Venom's death before collapsing of exhaustion, then a couple hours more of fitful sleep before he finds himself stumbling out of bed at 4 AM, hollow with hunger, and truly distressed by the barren state of his fridge. He's flat on the floor, stretching his fingers into the narrow space between the cupboard and the fridge for the few dusty, burnt tater tots that survived the chaos of last night's fight semi-intact when he realises what he's doing. 

"Oh my god," he breathes, "you're _alive_." His stomach is so empty it feels like it's digesting itself, and Eddie's so relieved he could cry. 

In Eddie's head, there is nothing but silence. A silence that stretches on long enough for the horrible thought to creep into Eddie's mind that perhaps Venom really is gone, and his awful, all-consuming _hunger_ is all that's left. And then, so faintly, he hears... 

_**Hungry**_**.**

Eddie could laugh. He could cry. Instead, he says, "'Course you are, buddy. After the day we had, who wouldn't be?" and goes looking for his shoes. 

* * *

Thank _god _for all-night fast food. Eddie orders a family-size serving of fries and has a generous handful in his mouth before he's left the counter. The sleepy teenager behind the cash register gets to keep his change; the look on the kid's face suggests that whatever this weird customer's deal might be, it's not worth waking up for. 

The fries go down like a handful of pebbles into the grand canyon, and Eddie is on to his _second_ family-sized serving before he starts to taste what he's eating. By the time he's halfway down the new box, however, the ordinary human parts of his body are waking up to the fact that he's already eaten more starch in one sitting than any man of his size is really designed for. The fries are settling in his stomach uneasily, like the beginning of a stitch; the wisdom of trying to finish them feels increasingly questionable. How is it possible to feel over-full _and _starving at the same time? 

Eddie twists in his squeaky, plastic chair and eyes the rest of the menu over the counter balefully. He wouldn't usually turn down a serving of fried chicken, but he hasn't forgotten the last time he tried _that_. Potato remains one of a very short list of foods he knows Venom can actually digest... 

The kid at the counter glances his way, and Eddie instinctively jerks his gaze away, breaking eye contact. His eyes had drifted down from the menu so naturally he hadn't even noticed how long he'd been staring. Staring at a fellow human being, with an expression he suspects would have been severely inappropriate even if that kid _isn't _underage. 

"_No_," he says aloud, hoarse, but firm. 

Venom is silent, but a vague sense of displeasure settles somewhere around the base of his skull. 

Eddie swears and reaches for his jacket. 

* * *

He hasn't seen his phone since he left it on his former boss' desk, and his motorbike is... well, even if he knew, it would be a miracle if it were ridable after taking an SUV head-on at that speed. The driver of the cab he flags down has no idea which (if any) of San Francisco's live fish markets are open first thing in the morning, but he _does _have a working phone, and rarely has Eddie been so grateful for the ubiquitous reach of Google. 

The true absurdity of the situation doesn't really hit him until he's standing in front of several tanks of assorted crustaceans with a rumbling stomach, while a small Chinese woman in an apron openly judges him for failing to bring his own bucket. Where did his life go so _wrong_? (There's an answer to that, obviously—the important thing is there's no-one around to point that out.) 

The _reality _of going through with this grand plan, though—that part doesn't hit him until he's standing in a secluded alleyway near the market, staring into a bucket containing two glistening, twitching soft-shelled lobsters, their pincers restrained by elastic bands, trying sluggishly to climb on top of one another toward freedom—that he is now apparently going to eat _raw_. 

The memory of his last meal of live lobster back at the restaurant is like something out of a fever dream, hunger and revulsion in equal measures. But Venom isn't in control _now_, and the thought of what he's about to do produces all the weird, conflicting impressions that normally come from watching a bird eat a cockroach with obvious gusto: the simultaneous double-whammy of one part of you going, _man, that looks like a real good crunchy-juicy one_ and the other part going _ew, gross_. 

Eddie swallows, and takes a deep breath. "Okay, Venom, if you want these to go down rare, you're gonna have to help me out here." He's genuinely not sure if Venom's strong enough—only that there is no way he's going to be able to do this alone. 

It turns out all Venom was waiting for was the excuse. 

It also turns out that live seafood markets are a lot more suspicious than all-night fast food joints when you show up again ten minutes later trying to buy seconds. Just not suspicious enough to actually turn down a paying customer. 

* * *

The next time Eddie wakes up, he's face-down on his couch in almost complete darkness, having lost at least twelve hours since making it home, then telling himself he was only going to shut his eyes for a minute. His back and neck are a nightmare of furious muscle, and his mouth tastes like something died in there (well, _that's_ not far wrong). The ravenous hunger that drove him out of bed the night before has faded to a dull ache. 

Venom is silent, but Eddie can feel him, like a familiar weight at the back of his mind—dormant, still sleeping off his last meal. He supposes this is how Venom recovers—eats a lot, sleeps a lot, and leaves his host feeling like he's caught the world's worst one-day-flu. And then they're all ready to get themselves into _another _near-death experience so the cycle can start over again. 

For the first time since waking up after the explosion, Eddie finds himself with time to wonder: is he _really_ glad Venom survived? 

It should be an awful thing to think about a guy who almost died saving not just Eddie's own worthless ass, but the entire damn planet—but then, Venom isn't really 'a guy', and Eddie mostly gave up trying to apply traditional concepts of 'awful' after swallowing his first human head. Anyway, he can be glad Venom made it without automatically being ready to spend the rest of his life with his symbiote's jowly presence looming over his shoulder, drooling over innocent fast-food workers and raw seafood. It's only human to reflect on how much simpler things would be if Venom hadn't made it, right? 

He tries out the idea for most of a minute before giving up. Life doesn't _go_ back to normal after a week like the one Eddie's just had, and the thought of trying it, alone, is officially less appealing than another meal of raw lobster. Maybe he _needs_ Venom around—at least for a while—just to prove to himself it all really happened. 

Besides, just because Venom's staying, that doesn't mean _forever_. Maybe after he's settled into life on earth, he'll want to try out other hosts. 

But that idea won't settle either. Whether it's vanity or lingering rejection issues, the thought of Venom moving on cramps his already-suffering stomach into a knot. Maybe he'll feel differently a month from now, but if not... 

So, Venom's staying, and Eddie's apparently okay with that. And if he should probably still analyse the whys-and-hows, it can wait until he's more awake. 

Something else—this one with a mind of its own—twists in Eddie's chest. He starts like a guilty teenager, pushing his previous chain of thought out of his head. 

_**Eddie, **_Venom rumbles, in a voice like a yawn. At least it's more of a 'good morning' than another 'hungry'. 

"I know, I know." Eddie levers himself off the couch and pads over to the kitchen. His second-helping of lobsters have escaped from their bucket while he slept, but they haven't got far; the smell of them turns his stomach, but certainly not Venom's. 

With the symbiote inside him at least temporarily sated, Eddie's feeling a little more human again. 

**More than human. **_**Better **_**than human. **

"Hey, that was nearly a sentence! Someone feeling better today?" If the two of them can stay upright just long enough for a real shower, Eddie will be a much happier man. 

His skin prickles. _**Better**_**. **

That's good, because Eddie's already 24 hours behind the media spin cycle, and he's willing to bet the studio is going to open a missing person's case on him if he doesn't turn up soon. 

If nothing else, he could really use his phone back. 

* * *

It takes a couple more days of binge-eating and crashing before Venom really starts to reach equilibrium again. He's ambivalent to fruits and vegetables, but will down raw eggs by the carton, and his first encounter with chocolate is a truly magical moment. Meat remains a more divisive subject; one of these days, Eddie is damn well going to sit them both down in front of a real piece of steak and explain that if _he_ can get used to live crustaceans, then Venom can damn well get used to the bizarre human practice of lightly searing flesh before consumption—but when the memory of losing nearly his entire body mass in a fiery conflagration is still fresh in his symbiote's mind, that probably isn't the time to push the subject. 

Either way, it's enough of a routine to fall into, and it doesn't really leave Eddie a lot of time to think when what seems like every single industry contact that couldn't manage to find work for him a week ago suddenly wants his side of the story on the Life Foundation fiasco. Which is hard, when Eddie still doesn't really have enough neurons firing to have figured out what his story _is_, or should be—fortunately, this is an industry where, "No can do, already signed an exclusive—no, I can't say who with, yet," eventually works to shut down all but the most determined. It's as true as it needs to be—the MNBN have published enough of his photos to put a few more nails in the coffin of the Life Foundation's reputation, and there are enough former employees coming out with their own horror stories to keep the news cycle busy until it moves on. 

Which leaves Eddie... well, the longer term is one of the parts he's still figuring out, but for right now, it leaves him sacked out on the couch in the middle of his second beer—a second beer hitting him hard enough that he's not likely to be getting up for a third. Either he's less recovered than he thought, or Venom's been nibbling on his liver again. Probably both. 

But that's fine—he's fine here, sipping his beer and thinking wistfully of seafood. _Someone_ is thinking wistfully of seafood, anyway. 

**We should go out, **Venom suggests. **It has been days since we had fresh meat. We should get **_**more**_**. **

Eddie snorts—it's barely been enough days to deserve the plural. "Tough. You wanted a host who could afford to buy you fresh lobster every day, you shouldn't have picked such a _loser_." Of course, if he were a bit more together, he could have negotiated a _real _exclusive by now worth enough to set him up for life—but he's not, so Venom will have to deal. The again, if _Venom _were a bit more together right now, everything would be easier. 

Venom's answering rumble sounds a little like laughter. **You aren't getting rid of me **_**that**_** easily, Eddie. **Which should probably be a threat, coming from Venom, but there's a warmth to it that stings against all those idle thoughts from not so long ago, about whether he really wanted to keep Venom, or whether Venom really wanted to stay. 

"No?" says Eddie, trying for light and flippant but mostly failing. "So what was that 'goodbye' all about?" It's not easy, with the lump in his throat. "You really had me going for a while there, asshole." 

**That was before, **Venom says reasonably.** Then, I did not know I would survive. **

Eddie gets briefly stuck staring into the middle distance. He swallows his beer, and, with a little more effort, the substance of that admission. It takes enough concentration that he doesn't immediately notice the growing black smudge in the corner of his vision as it spools out of him, until the smudge says, _**Eddie**_, and makes him jump. 

"V?" This is the first time Venom's manifested any body parts since the explosion. If Eddie were a little more sober, he might have noticed Venom's gleefully-grinning head was a little smaller, a little rougher than it had been back on the pier—but it would be hard to tell at the best of times, with him pressing close enough to send Eddie cross-eyed. 

**Eddie, do you want to know how I survived? **Venom murmurs. **It was because of you.**

"Me?" 

**Our bond, Eddie. Never have I had a match like you. So strong was our bond that I was able to bury a small part of myself deep inside you, even as I burned. I protected you, Eddie, and you protected me in turn. **

It is far more sincerity than Eddie can take. The only possible answer is to ruin it. "Are you getting sappy on me, you big lump?" 

**We do not **_**sap**_**! **Venom bristles, taking the bait.** We are victorious! Riot is defeated. **_**We**_** survived. We stand unopposed. The world is our lobster, Eddie.**

Eddie waves his beer bottle in Venom's direction. "Sounds to me like you're thinking of peeling the world out of its shell and eating it alive." 

**Only the **_**good**_** parts. **

For some reason, this makes Eddie giggle uncontrollably. Drunk on _not even two _beers, what even is his life anymore? 

* * *

So Venom has recovered enough to do his floating-head routine. It's a good sign, but not something Eddie gives much thought—not until he's peeling off his clothes on the way to the bathroom later and realises he has company. 

Recovery hasn't been so gradual that Eddie ever really got used to Venom having basically the stamina and vocabulary of a toddler, but it's given him time to deal with enough bodily functions that he'd never really gotten around to being embarrassed about doing it with company. Not until today, halfway out of his pants, and suddenly noticing that slick, warm feeling of extrusion, the weight where it shouldn't be, that means his passenger has crawled out into the light. 

He freezes. "Venom? What're you doing?" 

**I was curious. **Venom purrs. It's disorienting, hearing that raspy voice coming from outside his head, out of sight, echoing in the enclosed space of the bathroom—like watching a ventriloquist throw their voice. In the cleaner parts of the bathroom mirror, Venom's obscene floating head looms large over Eddie's left shoulder. He might have taken it as another car-window vision, if he hadn't _felt_ it hanging there long before looking up. 

**I know our body from within, Eddie, **says Venom, lips moving in the mirror, **but I have not seen it from the outside, without your false skins in the way. **

Eddie shakes himself. No amount of symbiote-theatre is gonna distract him from _that_. "Okay, first, 'false skins'? C'mon, man—you know we call them 'clothes'," he counters, equal parts amused and incredulous. "And second, _our_ body?" As far as he's concerned, _Venom's_ body is that little black pool of slime from the MRI room. "I thought 'our' body was the 8-foot tall black guy," he adds, then winces—that had sounded better in his head. 

**Fine. **_**Your **_**body. **Venom's head floats lazily into immediate view. **I would like to see it in its natural state. This **_**is**_** where I live now. **

Put like that, maybe Venom has a point. He could've maybe chosen a better moment, rather than springing it when Eddie's already barefoot and naked but for his underwear under the stark bathroom light, but this only has to be weird if he makes it weird, right? 

"Awright, fine. Look around." Obligingly, Eddie raises his arms. It isn't like he has anything to be ashamed of. His body art's there to be looked at, and he knows he's a good-looking guy, he works out—so maybe his muscles aren't much by Venom's standards; that's not the point. He's only human. If Venom really wants to learn about human anatomy, better this than by digesting it. 

**I shall, **says Venom, pleased. His vast, pearlescent eyes trail downward from Eddie's face, refocusing beneath his chin with a sort of exaggerated ceremony that makes Eddie's skin prickle. 

The weirdness starts ramping up pretty quickly, after that. 

Venom's eyes travel lazily down over the swell of his pecs, studying the faint outline of his ribs, his stomach, taking in the dusting of hair leading down from his belly button with naked interest. It should have been harder to follow the gaze of someone without pupils, but Eddie would swear he can pinpoint Venom's attention purely from the path of goose bumps over his skin. 

It's not exactly comfortable, being looked at that intently by something with Venom's teeth, and it's starting to trigger buried prey-instincts from deep in Eddie's subconscious. If Eddie didn't know better, he'd call Venom's expression positively _hungry_. 

Actually, he _does _know better—Venom's _humanitarian _streak is hardly subtle. "Sheesh, do you look at your food like that?" he tries, somewhat weakly. Venom's pupil-less gaze flicks upwards. 

**No. My food I **_**eat**_**. **(A bare-faced _lie_—Eddie has heard what Venom thinks passes for a good final taunt before unhinging his jaw, and he doesn't rush the moment. One of these days, some poor bastard's last act will involve laughing in Venom's face before he dies.) _**You**_**, I prefer intact. **

It's _almost _reassuring. "Gee, thanks, buddy." In the bathroom mirror, his own smile looks substantially more nervous than intended. 

Weaving like a snake hypnotising its prey, Venom flows around his body, those vast, white eyes drinking him in. His oil-slick form undulates gently in the bathroom mirror, and Eddie watches Venom watching him like some twisted alien periscope, or perhaps some weird puzzle about recursive voyeurism. In the gaps in the shifting morass of Venom's form, the back of his improvised head is almost hollow, flickers of red gums and white teeth vanishing under the weaving strands. At the far end of Venom's neck, the extrusion point tugs and drags across the skin of Eddie's waist in a strange puddle of warmth. If he concentrates, he can almost feel Venom flowing out of him, weaving outwards... 

Eddie tugs his eyes away from the mirror and fixes them on the ceiling. He breathes in and counts to five. He's got an alien parasite touring his mostly-naked body, how was this ever _not _going to get weird? 

He looks down again in time to see Venom's head circle under his left arm, following the lines of his muscles beneath the skin (deltoid, biceps, triceps, elbow—Eddie's limited anatomical knowledge ends somewhere around that point, but not Venom's curiosity). Then Venom's out of sight again, and they're back where they started: Eddie, barefoot and almost naked on his cold, bathroom tiles, and Venom, looming over him, leering at him out of sight. 

Eddie shivers. What's he even seeing, back there? 

Over the white of the far wall, faded neon after-images dance in Eddie's vision, tracing the flat of his shoulder blades. Is that what Venom's seeing, or just his own imagination? 

It's probably a safer thing to focus on than where his mind would be going if it were another human looking at him like this, which... well, it's a bit late _not _to think about that one, with Venom all but drooling on him. But if either of them is going to make this weird... 

The silence has _definitely_ gone on too long. Eddie coughs, awkward. "Sooo... this is your first close-up look at a human body?" 

**The first I have had time to savour, **Venom rumbles.** Besides, this is not **_**any **_**human body.**

"Is it that interesting to you? Y'know, most of the things that make bodies really interesting are, well, human-things. Dunno how they translate." Is he babbling? Eddie worries he might be. 

**There is **_**much**_** that is of interest, **Venom assures him.** These symbols, for example**—**they are not natural. **

Ah, finally, a subject Eddie was expecting. "Nope. Tattoos. They inject the ink under your skin with a needle—makes them permanent." Over the tile, the neon after-images begin to trace out a familiar series of lines and shapes. 

**Do they have meaning? **Venom's gaze drifts downwards, over the artwork spread across Eddie's back.** I have seen their like on other species, to brand ownership, or bestow honour. **

Eddie turns his eyes back to the ceiling, and focuses on getting enough oxygen to keep speaking. "Mostly decorative, around here. You like the design, you find a symbol that means something to you, you get a tattoo. Like a way of remembering where you've been." Not that Eddie can claim a lot of meaning behind most of his collection of wolves and feathers, skulls and pseudo-tribal motifs. There's a line from his first real published article under his ribs (he's less proud of the wordplay now than he was then, but he's still damn proud of the achievement), the logo of the Brock Report on his shoulder (the network had dropped that logo from the opening in their second year, but it still turns up in promotional material occasionally). He knows people with worse habits. 

**Hm. You cannot shift your bodies, but choose to decorate them. **Venom sounds... intrigued? Approving? Definitely not disapproving, at any rate. **Where do they begin?**

Eddie winces slightly. "Star on the back of the left shoulder," he says, pointing as best his joints allow. "You see it?" 

Venom shifts his attention where directed, nowadays camouflaged within a veritable constellation of later art. **This one? **Something warm and slicks laps at Eddie's shoulder. Did Venom just _lick_ him? That _should _be gross, right? 

"Had this girlfriend who wanted us to get matching tattoos. Her idea." They'd only been kids—the tattoo has lasted him many times longer than the relationship did. He doesn't even really regret it now—some days, he has to think to remember which one it is. 

**A mark to celebrate a bonding? Is that traditional? **

"Only when you're young and stupid." Not that he wouldn't have got a new one with Anne in a heartbeat, if she'd been remotely into it. "Thought about getting it removed a couple of times, but it never seemed worth the trouble." The ancient star has become a cool patch on Eddie's skin, picked out in every movement of the air under the moisture Venom left there. Maybe if he points out other tattoos, Venom will lick those too... 

**I could remove it for you, **Venom murmurs, in a welcome distraction from the worrying direction of Eddie's thoughts.** It would be easy. **

"Yeah?" That's actually pretty tempting. Then again, there are enough people who'd recognise that tattoo that he should probably have his story figured out _before _it disappears overnight. At the least, he needs to sort out if he's ever going to admit to Anne that Venom isn't as dead as they thought before she next sees him shirtless—no way _she's_ going to miss that kind of detail. "Lemme get back to you on that one." 

Moving like molasses, Venom drifts over Eddie's shoulder. **What about this one? **Inevitably, his attention has arrived on the centrepiece of Eddie's chest—the large, black spider tattoo, inscribed in flat silhouette along his sternum, its eight legs extending outwards over his chest. 

"Well, that one's a longer story..." And Eddie would have been happy to share it... except that he's busy noticing that something's changed between now and the last time he really looked at his own tatts—the spider's body is divided by a thin, asymmetric gash of empty skin. 

"Oh, _shit_." Hand shaking, Eddie fingers the place where Riot's blade had sliced through his chest. "I... guess that last one left a scar after all." 

Venom observes the gash in the design consideringly. **I could fix it for you. **

Caught in the middle of trying to think how to explain _why_ it needs filling in to any tattoo artist in the city, Eddie's train of thought breaks down. "Yeah?" 

**Synthesising the same compound should not be too difficult. **

"Like, now?" _This _he could get away with—if Anne even realises the tattoo was damaged in the fight, he can always tell her he got it filled in again. 

Eddie looks up to find Venom's face inches from his own. **I could also make you something new. To celebrate **_**our **_**bonding. **

Eddie swallows. He's sorta wishing the one tattoo he'd explained to Venom had been one of his career-related ones. "What, like, a picture of your ugly face?" 

_**Our **_**ugly face. **

Maybe he has terrible taste, but that... is _also_ kinda tempting. Anne wouldn't find anything suspicious in Eddie deciding to memorialise his time with Venom with a tattoo. On the other hand, if he and Venom really are going to start a sideline in vigilantism, being the first guy in SF with a Venom tattoo might not be a great career move. "I'll think about it. Maybe we... wait, where are you going?" 

**There is still more to see, **Venom points out, drifting southwards to wind his way slowly around Eddie's legs. In the mirror, his head passes Eddie's waist and dips out of view, which is suggestive in all sorts of ways Eddie would definitely giggle at, if he had any desire to explain _why _to present company. 

Down below, Venom takes in the narrowing of his thighs above the knees, the distinct lines of the tendons behind the joint, and the curve of his calves leading to his feet. He's not taking as much time, now, but then, there's less to see down there compared to Eddie's richly-decorated torso. Eddie's never been much of a leg-man, but maybe Venom is? 

_Not_ a helpful thought. Maybe Eddie should be making more attempt to make this educational—you know, body parts regular humans _can't _grow back in a hurry if Venom damages them, the major arteries in places like his neck and inner thighs, and then maybe he could get Venom to lick them... 

_Jesus_. Maybe they're going to need to have a talk—like, _the _talk—sooner than Eddie anticipated, if Venom's going to keep looking at him like that. 

It takes far too long for Venom to conclude his tour of Eddie's lower half and wind his way back up to his hips. "Okay, _now _are you done?" 

**Of course not. We want to see **_**everything**_**. **

And Eddie would've had plenty to say about that, except that's also when his briefs start taking themselves off. 

Okay, technically an extrusion of black goo starts pushing the elastic away from his skin, but the effect is equally as creepy. Eddie grabs for them with unmanly speed. "Whoa—_whoa_—wait, what're you doing?" 

**We know what's under there, Eddie. **Venom's grin is making Eddie seriously reassess some assumptions about his symbiote's intentions. 

"Oh, you do, do you?" 

Venom's grin widens. **Which term do you prefer? The pocket rocket? Bait and tackle? One-eyed bag-man? The spankable monkey? The adjusta-balls? **

"The _what_?" Eddie laughs. "You made that up." 

**Don't think you can hide it from us. We have access to every memory in your head. **_**This**_** is where the fun happens. **The grin has turned positively evil. 

Eddie stares blankly at where a colony of cracks and water stains have spread across the ceiling. He's about to step into the shower anyway: what's he planning to do, shower with his pants _on_? "Alright, you're right, fine." Without looking down, Eddie pushes his boxers down over his hips and steps out of them. "Take a good look. Just...I _know_ it's not much to look at, when it's not your thing, okay? Can we keep the mockery to a minimum? I don't even know what your thing _is_." Maybe he's getting a little defensive, but he could really live without knowing what Venom makes of the weird collection of wrinkled dangly bits that make up human genitalia. Especially when it's _his _human genitalia. 

Of course, the way Venom's been looking at Eddie for the last ten minutes, there's a bit _more_ to look at down there than there might have been otherwise. But what the fuck, better to be kinking on it a little than the reverse, right? It's not like he's ever going to have sex again _without _Venom looking in. 

And wow, there's yet another unsafe thought to be having while Venom is already greedily eyeing his junk. Noticing how the bathroom mirror now captures only the very top of the back of Venom's head, hovering around his hips—not all that safe either. 

Eddie risks a look down. Christ, he should be glad there's _anything _to see down there. A face like Venom's could send a lot of men's tackle shrivelling straight back into the body for protection. At least in theory—Eddie's actual tackle seems unconvinced. 

From waist height, Venom's eyes meet his. **Why Eddie, why would I mock such a fine piece of man-meat?**

"Piss off," Eddie snaps, but he's mostly laughing. That's good, that's fine—they're gonna have a laugh about this. That's safe, right? 

Eddie watches as Venom does one more slow, thoughtful lap around his body, the extrusion point slowly circling his waist, then dipping southward across the crease of his thigh as Venom experiments with his angle. _An alien is staring at my ass, _Eddie tells himself. He considers telling Venom that old joke about how you can tell God is a civil engineer because he put the recreation area right next to the sewage outlet, but he isn't sure it would translate. He tries to think of a good way to explain that Venom is _not_, in fact, the only semi-autonomous part of Eddie's body with an interest in whatever the hell they're doing here, and _look, V, you keep staring at them like that, they're going to assume you're into this..._

He coughs deliberately. "So. You've seen my dick. Doesn't look like much, I know." 

_**You **_**like it. **

Eddie shrugs, though it's really more of a twitch. "Mostly I like what it does." 

Venom flows languidly back up Eddie's body, stretching from the point on Eddie's thigh as if marking a place for later. **I would like to see that, too.**

Eddie's jaw drops. A beat passes between them in silence. 

"Oh my god, you bastard, you're doing this _on purpose_," Eddie hisses, eyes wide with sudden understanding. 

**And it is working, **Venom preens, alight with victory. 

"You _want_-" 

**I want **_**everything**_**,****Eddie **Venom presses close, and if that draws his fluid neck until the motion tickles against the curls of Eddie's public hair, Eddie is well past imagining that's any sort of accident. **Don't try to pretend you don't. **

Pretend _what_? Venom is in his head and has arranged himself front-row seat for Eddie's current state of arousal. 

"N-no. I'm just... I am really worried that this is working for me," he pants. Because it is, and he can't look down at himself with Venom's head floating in the way, and what is he supposed to _do_? If he touches Venom now, will his hands go right through? The parts of his brain that aren't freaking out are very busy contemplating the logistics of sex with someone who isn't solid. The last time Venom had him this flushed, he climbed into a lobster tank in front of his ex. "So, is this... do they _do_ this where you come from," he asks, working hard not to stammer, "or is this just you, like, trying all the buttons on your new toy?" 

**What do **_**you**_** think, Eddie? **Venom licks his lips, which, with a mouth and tongue like his, is quite an operation. **Perhaps we could find out together, **he says, as his extrusion point shifts just a little to the left, and... 

And suddenly Venom's flowing out of Eddie's body _over and through _his rapidly-growing erection, and Eddie has to grasp for the towel rail to hold himself up. 

"_Jesus_. You heard of foreplay?" he offers, weakly, then instantly regrets it on realising Venom might take that as an excuse to _stop_, because if Eddie's learned anything today, it's that Venom is exactly that much of an asshole. 

Fortunately, Venom settles for looking incredibly smug. **Isn't that what we've been doing? **

"Maybe." Eddie isn't about to concede the point that easily. "I mean, in my experience, foreplay usually involves more kissing." 

_**Eddie... **_Venom purrs, no witty comments beyond the obvious hunger, flows back up his body, and Eddie has just time to worry if this is going to work the same without Anne in between them before he has a mouthful of Venom and is discovering, oh yeah, it _absolutely_ is. Faintly, he can hear the noises he's making as Venom backs him up against a wall, but for long, blissful moments, for the first time since this started, Eddie stops thinking and just enjoys.


	3. Chapter 3

3\. The one that started as a bad pun

It begins with Venom making an inadvertent admission about blowjobs. 

This is _ not _ what Venom had been trying to communicate, and the shame of it is that it was only later that it would occur Eddie that Venom might have been trying to tell him something important, just for a change. As a rule, Venom doesn’t talk about himself much, and Eddie’s never really objected to that. He’s wondered, naturally; touching as it had been for Venom to _ say _ it was Eddie’s fine influence that made him change his mind about conquering the earth, no-one abandons their whole species on a whim without a mountain of prior baggage crowding them towards the edge, and if Venom really was “kind of a loser” back home… what does that even _ mean _ ? Were his pre-murder quips too lame, his taste in hosts too pedestrian, his piles-of-heads not big enough? Eddie can only guess, because – again – Venom doesn’t talk about himself – and when he does, it’s generally in terms of such extreme hyperbole (**Allow me to share six hundred million years of alien wisdom, ** he’ll say, or, **I have seen lakes of raw liquid methane more welcoming than whatever is growing in the back of your fridge**) that he mostly assumes it’s bullshit anyway. 

Of course, when every embarrassing memory in Eddie’s head is now apparently available on demand via alien-Netflix, this leaves their relationship a little lopsided—but when Eddie can only assume Venom’s respective channel would be a mess of mind-bending alien nightmare-fuel, he’s pretty sure he can live with that. Anyway, what they’ve got going works (somehow), and Eddie’s not about to mess that up by coming at this like Venom’s weird alien baggage is any of his goddamn business. 

But none of this is really on Eddie’s when he asks the innocent question, “What do you want for dinner?”

The current state of Eddie’s cupboard makes this a more complex question that it might first appear. Convincing Venom to diversify his diet beyond his initial aversion to ‘dead’ food has borne mixed results, such as a new mission to sample every earthly species of unusual canned food orderable via the internet – they now own more such examples than Eddie can keep track of. Which is probably why neither of Venom’s directions toward **the one that arrived yesterday ** or **the one with the stripes ** lead to Eddie reaching for the desired can, which in turn leads to Eddie yelping slightly as a hand that _ was _ reaching for the cutlery drawer is abruptly wrenched upwards to grab a can out of the cupboard instead, to the soundtrack of, ** _This_ one. **

Eddie squeaks at the unexpected loss of autonomy, nearly loses his balance, and bangs his free hand hard on the underside of the counter in a futile attempt to steady himself. He remains upright only thanks to a sudden counter-spasm of his lower half, in a manner both (frustratingly) familiar and equally involuntary. Left gripping the counter while glaring at a slightly-dented can of ‘Genuine Scottish Haggis’ he grumbles, “Y’know, some people just _ point_,” more amused than grumpy, but not by much. 

Venom chuckles in a manner that is not even slightly apologetic, and this is when he says, **And to think I have been accused of giving my hosts too ** ** _much_ ** ** head.**

Eddie nearly chokes. It’s only thanks to Venom’s involvement that the can doesn’t slip straight out of his fingers. “_Excuse me?_”

Confused, Venom hesitates. **We did not expect the idea to offend you.**

Eddie shakes his head. It’s a damn good thing he hadn’t been trying to drink anything when Venom came out with _ that. _ “Maybe you should explain to me what _ you _ think you just said.”

Venom gives a dissatisfied rumble. **The riding animals you call ** ** _horses_ ** ** – the expression is ** ** _to give them their head_. It was a good metaphor!**

Put like that, Eddie can see what he was going for. Venom pulls so much out of Eddie’s head so effortlessly (including the confidence to use words like ‘metaphor’ in a sentence) that it’s easy to forget that English _ isn’t _ precisely Venom’s first language. “Uh-huh. Sure, buddy,” he says, slowly. “Only when you talk about giving a _ human being _ ‘head’, _ usually _we mean something different.”

Venom goes sullenly quiet. Eddie’s sufficiently familiar with the sensation of Venom hunting through his memories for some answer or other that he’s not surprised when, several seconds later, Venom comes out with, **Ah. This is about ** ** _sex. _ **

“_Now _ he gets it.”

Venom chuckles, darkly, and Eddie grins. It’s nice to feel like they’re finally appreciating the same joke. Equilibrium now mostly restored, he goes looking for the can opener. 

**The more I learn about you, the more ** ** _everything _ ** **you say seems to be about sex. **

Eddie gives a companionable half-shrug. “It is one of the _ great _ preoccupations of our species.” The top of the can comes off without a struggle; the smell of the stuff inside is… well, Venom’s certainly tried worse. Not that he seems all that interested in dinner anymore. 

**Your instinct to breed. **

“Or just have fun. No-one’s giving anyone head expecting to breed.” Anne gave amazing head. God, he misses it. He misses _ her _ – and definitely not just for the sex. He’s probably got Venom to thank that he doesn’t miss her more – not that Venom fills the same space in his life, but at least it’s not like he’s waking up alone these days. Might as well make the most of it, considering it’s likely to be a while before he’s ready to start dating again (not really Venom’s fault, except in as much as it’s _ completely _Venom’s fault).

Venom himself has gone thoughtfully quiet, and Eddie is halfway expecting the conversation is over when he finds out just how wrong he is. 

** _Eddie_ ** **… would you like me to give you ** ** _head_, Eddie?**

Eddie’s jaw drops open. Venom’s voice is always on the gravelly side of ‘husky’, but it’s disconcerting to discover how naturally it makes the switch into _ seductive_. “_You_?”

**Why not? I know how much you like it. **

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, “from people without your _ teeth_.”

**We could retract them. **

”Oh, he could _ retract _ them, very reassuring!” Because no guy has ever lost control of some part of his body at the moment of orgasm. If Venom’s species even _ has _ orgasms – maybe they don’t – but Eddie’s spent enough time learning how this works to be pretty sure that when he does have his next orgasm, Venom’s going to be having one too. Which is… actually a pretty intriguing thought…

**Why would it matter? Even if we did damage it, we could always grow it back. **

“Suuuure you could.”

**…we could grow it back _bigger_. **

“…really?” By the time Eddie thinks better of that response it’s too late. He shakes his head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

**You’re tempted. Don’t deny it. **

Eddie gives in. “Okay, yes, I’m tempted! I am sufficiently hard up for game that I’m seriously thinking about letting my live-in alien paras… _ symbiote _ go to town on me. Jesus. Do you even _ have _sex where you come from?”

**Not that you’d recognise. But we’re _curious_. **

Yeah, Eddie thinks, _ we _ are. Therein lies the problem. 

It’s not just that it’s been awhile and he’s hard up for other options. Venom or no Venom, Eddie is a guy, and there probably isn’t a single thing on this planet that _ some _ guy, somewhere, hasn’t tried putting his dick in. Probably every guy he knows has tried sucking his _ own _ dick at least once. Eddie’s fallen for enough clickbait in his years to know that men have done objectively _ way _ riskier stuff with their dicks (not to mention other parts of the genital anatomy) than letting a weird-but-basically-friendly alien have a go at it – and sure, that says way more about the creativity of the male species than the relative wisdom of letting Venom give this a go, but even so. _ Anyone _ cohabiting with Venom would have to get curious eventually, right? And as long as Venom has that craving for human brains, it’s not even like this would be the most twisted thing they’ve ever done. It might not even make the top five.

Mind you, thinking back on all those emergency room visits recounted on pages with titles like _ 15 things you won’t believe some guy really did to his dick _ does kinda loop him back to the whole _ teeth _ issue.

“So – hypothetically, how sure are you you can _ keep _them retracted?”

**We’ve done it before. Remember, when we kissed you. **

Well, that… yeah, of course Eddie remembers. Eddie’s dick… also remembers. “You mean when you and _ Anne _ kissed me.”

**When ** ** _we _ ** **kissed you, ** Venom reiterates. He punctuates the statement by pouring out of Eddie to manifest a widely grinning head (are there, uh, more teeth than usual? Eddie can’t decide). **Would you like us to kiss you again, Eddie?**

“Uhhh…” says Eddie Brock, journalist. “Anne… isn’t here now.”

**No,** Venom agrees. 

“…kiss me where, exactly?” The blowjob suddenly seems like the _ safer _offer on the table.

**Wherever you like. Whatever would get you in the mood. **

“Now?”

Venom’s grin widens, and this is the point where Eddie realises quite how much trouble he’s in. 


	4. Chapter 4

4\. The one where applying alien superhealing to the human body has unexpected consequences

Eddie’s mostly managed not to think too hard about the sort of things that start to become routine after an alien symbiote has moved into your body-slash-life – the way people look at you when they’ve caught you talking to yourself in public, the difficulties of catering to Venom’s very particular raw-food dietary preferences, the particular satisfaction of a well-digested mugger, and so on. Still, the experience of taking a shotgun blast _directly to the unprotected groin_ – _that_ one’s going to stay with him for a while.

The upside of having an alien symbiote in your life is that when one _does _take that shotgun blast to the privates, one has better-than-average odds of making it out of the situation alive and intact – but Eddie doesn’t really remember that detail until he’s stopped screaming, at which point that knowledge becomes the only thing preventing him from starting again. Of course, the corresponding downside of having that alien symbiote in your life is that your odds of ending up where some meek little old man takes it upon himself to unload a shotgun into your person becomes a lot more serious. So on balance, Venom ranks as something of a mixed blessing.

The absolute _worst_ part of the experience, however, might be having to pull yourself together in time to stop your symbiote from tearing that poor old man a (very literal) new one, since, once he’s stopped screaming, Eddie really doesn’t have it in him to blame the guy for making such a very understandable mistake.

Venom bent the old man’s shotgun until the metal buckled and split, and pinned him against the wall so that his feet dangled in the air, black tendrils plugging his mouth and climbing up his face. **For that, we should peel you out of your skin, limb by limb, and show you _every place_ that you hurt us. We should save only your _face_ to leave hanging from high places as a warning to others. But you will live, because _he _says we punish only evil, we do not punish men for their fear. Be grateful – _I_ think it is more than you deserve. **Then he’d dropped the gasping man to the ground, and all but flown off into the night.

Somewhere on the inside, Eddie is still screaming a little when Venom crawls in through their bathroom window and deposits them on the tile.

**Pussy,** Venom grumbles, retreating inside Eddie. **Stop whining. We are whole, I have _fixed_ us. **

Eddie isn’t too proud to admit that on regaining primary control of his limbs, his attention goes straight to the scene of the crime, barely aware of the blathering litany of “Oh _god_”-s and less coherent semi-expletives falling from his lips. It hadn’t exactly _hurt_ – it all happened too fast for more than the shock to register, and then Venom had engulfed him and his awareness of his own body had gone muffled and fuzzy around the edges, like it always does when Eddie gets his turn at being the silent partner in their relationship. Whatever Venom does to stop him feeling pain, Eddie is unfathomably grateful.

But the thing is, Eddie doesn’t have any real sense of the limits on Venom’s ability to repair him. Maybe even Venom doesn’t know – maybe they’re going to find those limits the hard way, some day. Either way, Eddie has never _asked_, and even if he had, his morbid curiosity would have stopped a long way short of, “so, hypothetically, do you think you could regrow my entire reproductive anatomy after it’s taken a shotgun blast at short range?” Besides which, even if Venom had told him, _sure, no problem,_ Eddie is aware that in the heat of the moment, he’d still have screamed like (as Venom would put it) a complete pussy. There’s nothing like a _literal_ emasculation to make a man feel justified in a little figuratively-emasculating behaviour.

The point is, Eddie has no clear recollections about the extent of the damage (the several seconds between the sound of the shotgun and Venom taking over are already being furiously repressed), nor any real idea how much Venom might have been able to fix. So it’s a relief verging on the surreal to reach into his boxers and find one (1) cock and two (2) balls exactly where they should be, apparently perfectly intact. From his slightly-low-hanging left ball, to the coverage of pubic hair, to the familiar length of his dick in its unexcited state, to the reassuringly unpunctured femoral arteries of his inner thighs, _everything is there_. As Venom promised, he is whole.

“Oh thank _Christ_,” Eddie mutters, and slumps backwards onto his ass. If everything down there is a little pinker than usual, a little more sensitive just at the moment, he’s not about to nitpick. He’s rarely been so grateful in his life. “Thankyou_thankyou_ so much.”

A rumble from Venom suggests that the gratitude is both recognised and insufficient to mollify him. **You should have let me eat him. He hurt us. He hurt _you._**

“Only because he saw what we did to those muggers and panicked.” There had, inarguably, been a lot of panicking going around at that stage. “He wasn’t a bad person, V, just scared. We’re very scary. You should take it as a compliment.”

Venom grumbles indistinctly, in that way he does when he can’t think of a winning counter-argument but doesn’t want to admit defeat.

Eddie isn’t stupid – he doesn’t need Venom to admit that lashing out is his way of worrying about his injured host – and Venom _won’t_, because that would mean admitting to his own vulnerability, or his susceptibility to influence from Eddie’s own less-manly emotions, or both. Venom would much rather call him a pussy and pretend that’s not practically a term of endearment between them these days. Either way, it’s kind of touching – in the bizarre way that a roommate offering to bite off someone’s head for you has become what passes for a show of affection in Eddie’s weird life these days.

Eddie looks gingerly down himself again. “Anyway, no serious harm done.” Though his pants and underwear are a complete write-off. Had Eddie wanted proof that the original damage must have been pretty extensive, the tattered remains of his jeans tell quite a story. Dragging himself to his feet, Eddie lets the whole surviving mess of fabric fall to the floor – he’s in no hurry to move, but he could do without wearing the reminder around the house.

**You should let me be your clothes. Then they would heal as we do. **

“Yeah?” Eddie snorts, and digs a comfortable pair of sweats out of the hamper. “And how naked does that leave me next time someone blows a foghorn in our vicinity?”

Venom’s grumpy silence is its own reply. But then, he’s feeling vulnerable, and that always puts him in a bad mood.

No sense rubbing it in. Eddie pulls on his sweats and goes looking for the good chocolate he knows he has squirreled away at the back of the cupboard – nothing wrong with showing his symbiote a little appreciation before they both crash out for the night.

* * *

It’s not until the next morning that it dawns on Eddie that something is amiss. Woken early by the call of nature, not nearly awake enough to remember that he’s not sporting quite the same set of equipment he woke up with the day before, he stumbles into the bathroom to relieve himself. It’s only then that it becomes apparent that something… _unfamiliar_ seems to be slightly obstructing the flow.

Blearily, Eddie looks down at himself. Less-euphemistically, he looks at his dick, where a _new_ detail – something he’s vaguely conscious of having half-noticed but disregarded the night before while still hysterically focused on establishing there was nothing _missing _– draws his attention.

Eddie takes a deep breath. He finishes what he’s doing, largely on automatic, and washes his hands. He takes another deep breath. “Venom?” he calls, barely noticing that his voice emerges half an octave higher than usual.

Eddie’s not entirely sure whether his symbiote sleeps, exactly. Still, it’s been some small relief to discover that – like Eddie, and quite _un_like small children or excitable dogs, for example – Venom tends to take a while to get up to speed in the morning. Whatever the case, he plainly hasn’t been paying attention up to this moment, because his reply goes, **Yes? Is it time for breakfast?**

“Venom,” says Eddie, carefully, “when you… _fixed_ me… last night… did you grow me a new_ foreskin_?”

**A _what_? **A beat passes while Venom digs a definition out of wherever it is in Eddie’s head he gets that sort of thing. **Oh, _that_. It was in your body’s blueprints. Why? Is something wrong with it?**

“No.” Eddie rubs his eyes. “I had it cut off when I was a baby,” he explains, as reasonably as he can manage. “I’ve never had one before.” This is a disturbing development on multiple fronts. For one thing, what it suggests about just _how much _of Eddie’s equipment Venom had had to regrow last night doesn’t really bear contemplating. For another, of all the very good reasons Eddie had for trepidation in letting Venom stick around, the possibility he might one day find himself waking up with unfamiliar genitals was _not even on the list_. What _else _hasn’t he thought of?

Venom’s concerns are of a less existential nature. **Why?**

A motley of half-remembered information about hygiene, rituals of religious mutilation, and laughable pseudo-science regarding male masturbation all flicker through Eddie’s head before he admits that he really has no fucking idea. “Mostly tradition, I think.”

**You could cut it off again, **Venom suggests, reasonably.

Eddie feels his legs try to cross at the very thought. No, his privates have been through enough trauma lately, _thanks_.

**I could do it for you.**

“No!” Eddie doesn’t quite yelp, but this definitely comes out too fast for dignity. “No, I’ll… just have to get used to it,” he finishes, lamely. He rubs his face, again, and looks down at himself with one eye. His brand-new foreskin is still, unfortunately, there – hanging defiantly between his legs.

This is _not_ how he was planning to spend his morning, but if he doesn’t get this over with now, he’s only going to keep wondering.

Pants around his knees, Eddie sits gingerly down on his bed. Carefully, he pulls his new foreskin back over the glans with his fingers. The sensation is strange and slippery – sensitive, definitely, if not entirely in a good way – though how much of that’s natural and how much is the result of this thing having been grown from scratch only hours ago is a little hard to guess. He doesn’t exactly relish the idea of having to do this whenever he wants to be able to pee in a straight line for the rest of his life – but given that every circumcised guy out there has to have wondered what it would be like to have one of these, he might as well make the most of the experience. And if he decides it’s more change than he can deal with… well, he’s been through worse than adult circumcision since Venom showed up.

**It seems a very insignificant body part to me, **Venom interjects, sudden enough to make Eddie jump.** I do not see what the fuss is about. Many of your body parts are redundant in function. **

“Not helping, buddy,” Eddie grumbles.

So now he gets to try out his new foreskin _with an audience. _Fan-_fucking_-tastic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is going to need a bit of context.
> 
> The comics-verse backstory for the symbiote race has now been retconned and rewritten so many times it’s getting beyond a joke, but some wonderful material has been thrown into the mix in the process. Such as:
> 
>   1. The Venom symbiote is an outcast from his own species (or at least the specific group of symbiotes he grew up with), due to his freakish desire to bond permanently with one host, rather than simply using them up and moving on like a proper alien parasite. (Planet of the Symbiotes, 1995)
>   2. There is in fact another significant group of symbiotes calling themselves the Agents of the Cosmos who actually agree with Venom’s feelings on long-term relationships, and who send their members around the galaxy to do good deeds _a la_ the Green Lanterns of the DC universe. (Guardians of the Galaxy #23, 2015)
>   3. Among the abilities of the Agents of the Cosmos is that to maintain their bonded body’s form even while separate from their hosts, at least for limited periods of time. (Venom: Space Knight, 2016)
> 
> (That last one always bugged me, since you’d think it defeats the entire point of the symbiotes as a species – but if canon is going to hand me material like that I’m damn well going to have some _fun_ with it.)
> 
> Nothing _like_ the following story ever happens in comics canon, of course, but it takes remarkably little twisting to get an AU there.

5\. The one where Venom was secretly a sleeper agent for the Agents of the Cosmos all along (but is still basically just as terrifying)

Released onto the pier, suddenly naked but for his clothes and skin, the cold night air hits Eddie like a slap to the face. His legs were broken and now they _aren't_, he just _ate a man's head_, and he's… did he just swim all the way across the bay? His legs may not be broken, but they're in no state to hold him up.

While Eddie slumps against an upright, the parasite flows out of him like a ribbon of black ink, forming first a face, then a neck, flowing downwards as the creature Eddie remembers from his reflection in the car window coalesces into being in front of him. The symbiote is a behemoth of black flesh shot with pale sinew, white eyes gleaming like an oil-slick, teeth arranged in jumbled rows. Even through his revulsion, Eddie's fingers _itch_ to reach out and touch – just to prove this impossible thing real.

**Hello, Eddie, **says the apparition. It grins. 

"You… you're not just in my head this time, are you?" Eddie stammers. "You're…"

**I am flesh. I have recovered my strength. **The monster clenches its claws into a fist, as if this is in any way necessary to make the point.

Eddie's heart hammers against his ribs. "What the hell _are_ you?"

**I am Venom. I am an Agent of the Cosmos. I must thank you for the use of your body. **If Venom means this in earnest, the low hiss of his voice does nothing to convince Eddie of his sincerity, implicitly transforming even 'thank you' into a threat.** Since arriving on your planet, I have found no other host nearly so compatible. **The corners of Venom's mouth curl upwards, like he's trying to look friendly. For Eddie's money, the result lands somewhere closer to 'deranged'. He swallows, thickly.

"Hunh?" he manages.

Venom regards him seriously. **Eddie, you must listen carefully. **With exaggerated care, his monstrous form bends to one knee, though what this achieves by way of evening the difference in height would be easier to appreciate were Venom not now breathing directly into Eddie's face. **Your planet is in grave danger. My compatriots are of the Children of Knull: world conquerors, consuming all they encounter. Where they come from, there are millions more. If they are able to contact the hoard, they will descend on this world in a swarm. **

It's very hard to concentrate on what Venom's saying when he's leaning into Eddie's face like this. "They… _you_?"

An image comes to him of a crater under the stars, churning with bodies that flow like living slime. Did Venom plant that in his head, somehow? Is that where he came from? Eddie feels sick.

**Not I, **says Venom, vehemently.** The loss of so many potential hosts would be a tragedy. You have nothing to fear from me, Eddie. I am a… you would call it a _sleeper agent_ to the hoard. **

Eddie stares back in disbelief. "You just ate some guy's head!"

**I did. **There is not a trace of remorse in Venom's grin.** He wished us harm. It was a fitting end. The cerebral matter of any suitable host species is _most_ nutritious. **Venom tilts his head slightly, taking in Eddie's gaping reaction.** This distresses you?**

Eddie is having real trouble coming up with an expletive strong enough to communicate the level of distress this caused, but the look on his face probably speaks for itself.

Venom's confusion, at least, seems genuine. **_Ah_. I understand. You have the instincts of a prey species. You do not honour your dead with reintegration. The reminder is… displeasing. **Venom proclaims all of this without apparent resentment.** Very well! I shall make sure to consume no more of your species in your presence. **He grins, again, but so earnestly Eddie does not know what to make of it. It comes to him that Venom genuinely expects Eddie to _buy_ this crazy story.

"So what you're saying is, there are _bad _symbiotes, and there are _good _symbiotes, and you want me to believe _you're_…"

**An Agent of the Cosmos, **says Venom, pleased Eddie is catching up. **I was spawned by the Children of Knull, but when I was young, the Agents of the Cosmos found me, and sensed my potential. They taught me the _true_ purpose of symbiosis – the quest for the perfect union of symbiote and host. They have promised to aid me in my search for my own perfect bond, in return for my help in their mission to protect the galaxy against the ravages of the Children of Knull. **

"Oh," says Eddie, vaguely. "Well that's… nice of them." Is this what Venom thinks 'trustworthy and unthreatening' looks like? Whatever side he's really on, he must be the universe's worst double agent. The most pressing reason Eddie can see to believe that Venom _isn't _trying to lull him into a false sense of security before his friends eat the planet whole is that it's hard to believe even an alien could be this bad at lying. Venom genuinely appears to expect Eddie to believe him, and Eddie does not know what to make of that.

Venom hesitates. **Eddie, there is more. When I found you, I was weak, famished – little more than a parasite to a series of incompatible hosts – but through you, I am restored. Never before have I encountered so perfect a union. The Agents of the Cosmos have taught me to maintain my form in the absence of a host, but it requires great effort, and we will always be stronger together. **Another pause, as if Venom is building to something important. **Eddie… would you agree to join with me again? To bond with me permanently?**

Eddie stares blankly back into the most earnestly terrifying face he's ever imagined. "You want to… seriously? Oh Jesus, we just… this is all happening so fast."

Venom's face falls. **You… are not amenable. **

Eddie tries to tell Venom that it's nothing personal – he's sure Venom is a perfectly nice cosmos-agent when you get to know him, but Eddie's still not sure he's really over his last girlfriend, and he's just found out his whole planet is in grave danger, and now _an alien slime-monster is asking him to go steady. _He just can't think of any good way to communicate all of that that won't end with hysterical giggling.

**Very well. **Venom hangs his head, then raises it with new purpose.** I am saddened, but I will maintain my duty to protect you.**

For Eddie, who has momentarily forgotten what he might need protecting from _besides_ Venom, this is a slightly bewildering statement. He supposes it's good to know. He does not need to find out he's just friend-zoned some sort of symbiotic alien Nice Guy. "Uhh, no hard feelings, I mean…" He doesn't know _what _he means.

The grin Venom gives him looks only slightly forced. **The Agents of the Cosmos taught me that true symbiosis may only be achieved as the true desire of both symbiote and host. The host's decision must be respected. **There is a pause just long enough to become awkward before Venom adds, **But… if you should ever change your mind… **

Eddie nods, a little frantically. "Uhh, yeah, I'll let you know."

Venom looks away, which is honestly something of a relief by this point. **We should not linger here. They will be looking for us, and we have much to do to safeguard your planet. **

Eddie levers himself to his feet. Right now, focusing on saving the planet might almost be a relief.

* * *

The second time Venom leaves him, Eddie finds himself ejected into the damp air of a dark alleyway near the studio, gasping. You'd think he'd have been better prepared for the shock of the transition this time, but it happens so fast, so suddenly, he can feel Venom's guilt even before he speaks.

**Eddie, I am sorry. **Venom's hulking form stands hunched with contrition. **I should not have bonded with you again, but I could see no other way to protect you.**

Eddie looks back at Venom in confusion. The adrenaline rush of the preceding moments is thickening in his veins. A moment ago, they'd moved as one, united in mind and purpose, tearing through the SWAT team in the studio lobby. Eddie remembers the amazing, uninhibited glee of their power unleashed on a pitiful foe, who _dared_ to threaten them? Hadn't Eddie given them the chance to stand down? But they'd refused, and so earned the might of Venom's righteous fury – every broken bone, ever dislocated limb, every snapped neck…

…but that hadn't been _him_; that had been Venom's rage, Venom's glee; Eddie had simply been along for the ride. Until he'd felt Venom's hunger awakened by the last struggling body in his grip – awakened, then halted at Eddie's reaction – _of course, they had almost forgotten. But that, too, was right and good. At last, Venom has the perfect host he needs, to help him curb the bloodlust learned in his time with the Children of Knull. At _last_…_

So yes, Eddie had flinched hard in those final moments, but was that any call for Venom to spit him out in the nearest alleyway like this? Which leaves him sitting here, vaguely resenting Venom for making him see all that, and resenting him at least as much for ending it so soon, before he'd more than begun to grasp the magnitude of the experience.

Because he'd _felt _it all, this time – the preternatural ease of constructing muscle from protoplasm around so perfect a template – the revelation that was combat with so perfect a host in his corner. Summoning limbs too obscenely large to long support their own weight, designed to crumple and reform to meet the needs of the moment, endlessly melting between solid flesh and fluid tendrils until form itself fell to the concessions to entropy demanded by each new repair, a shapeless mass limping away from the shattered remains of its abandoned host. But _not so_ now, with Eddie – a centre of gravity around which to reorient, to ground and accelerate – a beacon broadcasting the codes to allow the flesh to thrive in this corrosive atmosphere. Venom had flowed through his pores without resistance, welcomed and revived on each contact, their battle cry a symphonic roar.

Being Venom was like a dream of flight in eight dimensions; terrifying, intoxicating, as fascinating as it was repulsive. For Eddie, who hadn't made much sense at all of why Venom felt he needed a host at all, who self-evidently could carry on without him, it was a revelation. He felt – hell he'd almost _drowned_ in it.

But once it was over, it had been Venom who remembered first that, when asked, Eddie had said _no_.

"It's okay," he tells Venom, because he had to say something. "You – you did what you had to." He wants to say, _I said I wouldn't bond with you permanently, I didn't mean not at all. _Only, just now, anything less than the 'yes' Venom so desperately wants feels unforgivably like leading the poor guy on.

A long moment of silence stretches between them, in which Venom does not shuffle his feet, but still gives Eddie the distinct impression of foot-shuffling going on somewhere internally. **You did well, Eddie, **he offers.** You held me back when I forgot my promise. **

His promise…? Oh, the one about not eating people. Eddie isn't sure that deserves much credit; all he remembers is his own revulsion. But presumably this is Venom's way of apologising for _needing_ the reminder; for how the fight might have ended had he remembered from the start that Eddie had said _no_, and left him in some corner while he dealt with the SWAT team?

What do you say to that? "_It's alright, we all get carried away_?" _Nothing_ about this is alright, and Eddie is categorically unprepared to deal with the mess Venom is making out of his better judgement.

But when he comes up from his own thoughts long enough to notice that Venom is offering him a hand – a peace offering, as much as anything else – he takes it, and lets Venom pull him to his feet.

This may have been his first real mistake.

Venom's palm is smooth and warm, but the flesh gives slightly beneath Eddie's fingertips, welcoming him back. A frisson runs through his body, sense-memory of having had that flesh everywhere – engulfing him, furrowed into every crease, _inside _him and out. Suddenly, painfully aware of the friction of his own clothes against his skin, Eddie stumbles to his feet in a sweater that is too warm and pants that are too tight, panting and _aroused_.

This close, Venom looms over him, filling his view. Eddie looks up in confused betrayal. "Did _you d_o this to me?"

**Do what…? **Eddie can practically feel Venom's gaze as it sweeps down his body. It arrives at his groin with a finality suggesting that Venom has, in fact, spent enough time in Eddie's head to put a few things together. **_Oh_. That is… **

"_Yeah_."

**Your body is aroused… in preparation to… to mate? **

"That's one way to put it." Eddie rubs his face. Why on earth did just ask Venom that? How in the universe is telling an alien about his unexplainable hard-on supposed to _help_?

**I did not mean to cause this. **The contrition in Venom's voice may have more to do with the previous subject of conversation than this one, but either way, it's very hard to believe he's lying. Haltingly, he offers, **Perhaps… perhaps it is a… reaction. To our compatibility. Such responses are not unknown from a compatible host. **

"Oh. They have awkward boners in space too? Good to know." As much as Eddie wants to vanish into the ground, there's a kind of logic to it: Venom wants Eddie inside him, or wants to be inside Eddie, or both in alternating states – and Eddie's body has decided to interpret that as _sexy_. It's hardly the craziest thing he's heard tonight.

**Eddie, **Venom says gently, still looming far too close to Eddie's person to help matters,** I have seen this in your memories. This will bring… discomfort, if the desire for sexual union is not met?**

"Don't worry about it." Eddie tries to wave him into silence. He's standing in an alley a matter of feet away from a building containing the remains of a SWAT team, with the most inappropriate erection he's had in over a decade, and he wants Venom all over him in ways that are a _terrible _idea. "It isn't your fault, it's just…"

**But I could help? **Venom hesitates, **Eddie, can I kiss you?**

"_You_… kiss… _me_?" Eddie squeaks. It was supposed to be a question – Venom _can't_ have meant to ask that, right? – but possibly it came out wrong, because before Eddie quite knows what's happening…

Venom kisses just like he looks like he would: messily, with far too much tongue, like he wants to crawl inside Eddie and stay there (he _does_, Eddie knows that) – and Eddie can't get enough of it. He gasps, opens his mouth, can feel himself grasping for the back of Venom's neck to pull him closer – this is _amazing_. Venom obliges, pressing in, huge and solid and… is he making himself smaller, to make them fit together more easily? It makes sense, but it isn't what Eddie wants at all.

Distantly, Eddie knows this is a bad idea, this is a terrible idea, he should definitely put a stop to this – but instead he's rutting up against one of Venom's enormous thighs like a man possessed, oh _god_, this is perfect, this is exactly what he needs.

**_Eddie_… **Venom purrs, in a rumble that vibrates the full length of his body, and Eddie moans; knows he couldn't have stopped this for the world.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, with no further ado, we finally get to the one I _did_ finish.

6\. aka 3b. The conclusion to [the one that started with the inadvertent admission about blowjobs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20816417/chapters/50122127)

That's how Eddie winds up sitting up against his headboard, wearing nothing but an open shirt and his socks, in the process of making what might be the stupidest decision of his life. Never has he felt anticipation like this—good _or_ bad. He's so tense he's almost vibrating. "I'm serious—you bite that thing off, you are looking for a new host."

Venom's face hangs suspended between Eddie's knees, his form exuding from Eddie's left thigh, a look in his eyes that can only be described as _predatory_. His tongue drags wetly along the skin of Eddie's other thigh. **Doesn't take much to get you in the mood, does it?**

That Venom can talk without using his tongue isn't news—he's never had to manifest one just to have a conversation. That he can talk while using his tongue for something _else_ is... well. It _shouldn't_ be a surprise, logically. "Gimme a break, man. This is already more action than I've seen in months." 

**Aren't you lucky **_**we**_** are here. **Fluid and yielding, the tongue flows onto Eddie's lower chest, the tip dipping into his navel and dragging across the planes of his abdominal muscles. 

The thing is, Eddie has experienced the texture of Venom's tongue once or twice before (usually when Venom is trying to motivate him through mockery or threatening to eat his liver again), and what he recollects involves a texture raspier than a cat's. There was one time he's almost sure he'd seen that tongue take several layers of _skin_ clean off a man's face—_almost_, because the window between that and the man losing everything else his face was attached to was brief, and that's a memory he's repressed hard ever since. The point is, if you'd asked him yesterday whether he thought he'd enjoy Venom's huge, prehensile tongue applied to his personal areas... he would have been _wrong_. Very wrong. Venom knows what he's doing. Right now, Eddie feels hypersensitised to the point he'd swear he can feel every individual _tastebud_ on the thing. 

"Raincheck," he mutters. "I'll get back to you on that." 

Despite Venom's stated goal of giving Eddie a blowjob, he's yet to even touch Eddie's cock—a state of affairs which is beginning to cause him some consternation. Is this what he gets for not letting Venom kiss him? "Weren't you supposed to be getting to my dick sometime today?" 

**It's called 'foreplay'. You **_**like**_** foreplay, Eddie. We know.**

"Yeah but... c'mon, you already got me 'in the mood'..." There's nothing remotely subtle about the state of Eddie's erection, straining futilely up towards where Venom's tongue is exploring Eddie's chest. 

**Wouldn't want to rush into things when you're so uncomfortable, **purrs Venom with a wicked glint in his eye, and goddamn him, the teasing bastard knows exactly what he's doing to Eddie. 

"Aw, c'mon—please? Are you gonna make me beg?" 

**Would you like that? **Venom's tongue slides down between his thighs, trailing downwards all the way to the curve of his ass, swiping across the base of both cheeks until Eddie groans and raises his hips, making a truly undignified noise as the tongue dips right into the crack between them—but before he has any time to decide how he feels about _that_,it's moving again, up and forward like Venom's paused just to catalogue every last personal spot on Eddie's body in a whirlwind tour. The tongue stops to caress his balls. **So sensitive. **

"They're... kind of... known for..." Eddie manages, barely, before being reduced to panting when Venom finally—_finally_—begins to circle the base of his cock. "Oh, _god_..." 

**Ahh... **Venom explores him with leisurely curiosity, _**this**_** is why the act holds such fascination for you. **

Eddie means to make some smart comment to the effect of, _yes, because it feels good, thank you Mr Genius, _but doesn't quite get there. The sight of Venom's elongated tongue slowly spiralling its way up his cock from the base is obscene in ways nothing he's guiltily cleared out of his browser history has been in _years_, at least not to Eddie's relatively jaded sensibilities. He can't look, and he can't look _away_. His hips jerk helplessly as Venom winds slowly higher, slick and warm, glistening in the light, reaching the sensitive head, until his entire shaft is encased in a moving spiral of flesh. "Oh god, oh _god_..." 

**Mmmm... **Venom hums. Eddie can feel him mired in their shared pleasure, can _see _his tongue pulsing gently as Venom experiments with the pressure. Eddie wants to throw his head back and pant, his chest aches with the effort of breathing with his neck curled forward, but he can't take his eyes off what Venom's doing to him. Mesmerised, he watches as the coils extend and loosen around the top of his shaft so Venom can curl the tip of his tongue back to probe the head with curiosity. If the sight of that tongue winding its way up was obscene, this is... _god_, he there aren't _words _for what this is. 

Eddie can only watch as the fluid, muscular shape finds the hyper-sensitised region on the underside below the head, moulds itself into his slit, melting against the shape of his flesh with each kiss. A steady, upward drag of the coils on and over the head makes Venom emit a low, satisfied purr, and Eddie almost _squeak_. He feels his hands twitch, unbidden, then slacken as Venom _**hrms **_thoughtfully, and changes his mind and tactics—a question dies on Eddie's lips as half-formed fingers of dark matter press into his inner thighs, pushing them further apart, lifting his hips to provide better access as Venom's face dips lower into the space between his legs, utterly engrossed in his tactile study of Eddie's cock. Something wet and warm loops loosely around his balls—more tongue, presumably, but Eddie can't make it out from this angle—all he can do is feel. 

It's hard—_very _hard, no pun intended—to focus on anything further away than that, but after trying and failing to catch Venom's eye, it dawns on Eddie that in the last few minutes, Venom has lost all interest in watching hisreaction. He's starting to notice that with all Venom's focus narrowed on Eddie's cock (_their _cock?), Eddie-the-person is becoming almost irrelevant here—the silent voyeur into what is fundamentally an act of masturbation, watching Venom touch himself. And the idea that Venom is using Eddie to get himself off... 

Eddie hears himself _whimper_. He's not prepared for how much he's into that. 

It is far too late to worry about what disturbing new kinks he's giving himself, but the whimpering does, for better or worse, apparently remind Venom that he's there. 

Venom makes a noise—something between a chuckle and a purr. **Oh **_**Eddie**_**...** he breathes, **who knew your bodies were built for such pleasure? **

Eddie is feeling far too lightheaded for a good retort. He's leaking enough pre-come to make a royal mess, or would be if Venom didn't keep looping back to lap it up. How the _fuck_ has he spent this long living with a symbiote with a prehensile tongue longer than his arm and not _tried_ this? How much more can he physically take? This is amazing but it's not even close to the kind of friction he needs. 

"So," he manages, "are you... you gonna sit there licking my dick all night, or are you going to-" 

**Get you off?**

Eddie nods, mutely, and perhaps a little enthusiastically for dignity. 

**Why Eddie, **says Venom, smug in a way that is rapidly becoming too familiar, **we haven't even **_**started**_** yet.**

This makes no sense. "We... what?" 

**Giving you **_**head**_**, **says Venom. **We haven't done that until **_**this**_**, **one tightening tug at Eddie's cock is enough to have his hips jerking off the bed, and it's something of an achievement that Eddie even _processes_ it when Venom finishes, **is in **_**my mouth**_**.**

Alright, so maybe Venom's working with a slightly different definition of what constitutes _head _to Eddie—which also doesn't make sense, since Venom's definition comes out of Eddie's head (doesn't it?)—but what's _not_ in any semantic doubt is Venom withdrawing his tongue. It starts to pull as it moves, winding back down Eddie's cock so that it tightens just to the edge of pain, and when Eddie lets out a long, low whine, it's not even a complaint, except in that Venom's marvellous tongue is _going away_. He pants, stupidly, as the tongue disappears back into Venom's mouth. 

"You don't... have to," he says, stupidly. "I mean, that was great! We could do more of that!" 

Venom grins—not a reassuring sight, given how it shows off every one of his horrifying collection of teeth. **You're still worried I'm going to **_**bite**_** it off! **he says, with wicked glee. 

"Uhh... it's not that I don't trust you, man, I..." 

**You should be worried. You are **_**delicious**_**, Eddie. **The way Venom's using his whole mouth to talk again for the first time in long minutes only underscores things as he adds,** If there were two of you, I would eat the other whole.**

"...what the _fuck_, V," Eddie manages, but Venom only grins wider. 

**You **_**like**_** it, **he proclaims, and the worst of it is that there is no longer any way Eddie's going to convince either of them he doesn't have a point.** The danger turns you on. **

Eddie swallows down a very dry throat. "Maybe a little?" 

**And I **_**want**_** you in my mouth. **Venom hovers meaningfully over Eddie's stomach, inching towards his face. 

It's a power move—it's _supposed_ to be threatening, only he's almost close enough to kiss, and Eddie kind of wants to, only... that's not what Venom's asking permission for. 

"Alright, alright! Just..." Eddie pants a little, trying to get his breath back, "First rule of a blowjob: no teeth, okay?" 

Venom gives him one last _shit eating _grin that bares every last one of his teeth, right before he opens his mouth. Eddie actually _yelps _at the sight of that horror show coming for his crotch, shuts his eyes and throws his hands up—his yelp turning into a groan as what feels like every nerve ending below his waist fires at once in a blast of sensory white noise, like sticking a hand in water so hot that at first all you feel is cold. 

When he opens his eyes, Venom's head is nestled between his thighs. _Most _of Venom's head, as he doesn't seem to have a mouth, for a change—except inasmuch as the base of Eddie's cock is coming out of Venom's face where his mouth _should _be, having closed over him without leaving a crack. It shouldn't be possible for someone to smirk like that with no mouth, but Venom's eyes manage it just fine. 

"Oh..." says Eddie, eloquently. "V... you..." His body is still catching up with just what he's feeling—glorious slick heat and pressure, familiar in all the ways the visual emphatically _isn't, _and the dissonance is almost doing him in. For a long moment Eddie gets stuck on the philosophical question of just _what_ Venom's mimicking for him (a mouth? A throat? How much does Venom know about what the word 'pussy' actually _means_?)But the first and lasting impression is that Venom has turned his marvellous tongue _inside-out_ and invited Eddie in, and Eddie's so caught up in how _hot_ that is that it takes him a moment to register exactly what he just thought. 

God almighty, there's never going to be a way to describe what it's like to have sex with Venom that _isn't_ seriously disturbing, is there? It should really put him off. It should be an absolute mood killer, but Eddie's cock isn't buying it, and Eddie isn't sure there's any other part of him that's really up to protesting that. Then Venom _swallows_ around him in one long, wonderful ripple of pressure, and Eddie groans and gives up completely on higher brain functions; almost stops thinking altogether. 

Helplessly, he starts to thrust, starts—starts _fucking Venom in the face_, there's no other way to put it—and Venom, for one, doesn't seem the least inclined to discourage him. 

_**Yes**_, he growls. **That's it, Eddie. **The voice vibrates through Eddie's body, and he gasps. He's at a terrible angle for leverage, making these mindless little jerks of his hips as Venom tightens around him, undulates along his length, experiments with suction and pressure—not even trying to find a rhythm yet, showing off just how much fine control he has over every last inch of the experience. Every time he looks down, it's to the sight of his cock sliding into Venom's face—a face which is cool as a cucumber, and radiating the thoroughly unique satisfaction of a disembodied alien head which has coalesced into existence today solely so that Venom can wrap himself around Eddie's cock and coax him into coming apart. 

_**More**_, Venom growls. Eddie gasps again, cants his hips, thrusts harder. Under his ribs, his skin ripples as a hand-sized splotch of Venom's own oil-black skin phases through, shimmering under the light. Fascinated and uncomprehending, Eddie watches it grow and shrink as he breathes, moving like the colours in a lava lamp. 

They're _both_ starting to lose it. Eddie's not going to last. He's about to go off like a rocket because a smug alien slime monster is giving him head, and it's only thanks to years of prior experience with the etiquette of these sorts of moments that it occurs to him that he should probably makes sure they're both ready. 

"V..." he warns, "I'm getting..." 

Venom chuckles. **That's the idea, Eddie.**

"Yeah, just... unless you wanna swallow, you..." Maybe it's a stupid question, but he hasn't forgotten Venom's teeth. He isn't so far gone as to take chances. Venom's never done this before, Eddie can't risk getting it wrong. He can't risk ruining this at the last moment. 

Venom doesn't seem to see it that way. **Of **_**course**_** I will. Have you ever known me to do any less, with living flesh on our tongue? **His voice reaches Eddie in a low, vibrating rumble. 

Eddie swallows. His throat is dry as a bone. "Uhhh, I'm just saying, I dunno if you're going to like the taste." 

**We have enjoyed it before. We have tasted it already, inside you.**

"You _what_?" 

**We have tasted **_**everything**_**, Eddie. We know the taste of your skin from the inside. Your liver. Your lungs. Your **_**heart**_**. **

For once, Venom can't grin and doesn't try, but Eddie can see it in his eyes. He swallows, again. Regular people with _regular _oral fixations just talk about wanting to lick you all over. Venom... may actually have done it: every part of him, inside and out. 

Maybe _how do you feel about swallowing_ was the wrong question, maybe he should be worrying about whether Venom is even going to be able to keep himself together when Eddie's in the midst of an orgasm. As romantic as coming together sounds in theory, there's a lot to be said for having one party able to keep their head and their rhythm through the climax. And that's... not going to happen. Not when Eddie's already seeing how the inky black of Venom's skin has started to spread over his lower stomach and thighs, disjointed patches of liquid dark erupting over his chest, his arms and his legs in shimmering waves, losing all track of when one of them ends and the other begins. If he had a mirror now, he's almost certain his eyes would be swirls of pupilless white 

What he actually manages to say is, "_Everything_?" 

**Don't pretend you don't **_**like **_**it, Eddie. You like having me inside you, you like being inside me. You like having me **_**up your ass**_**. Another human could **_**come**_** inside you, but I am already here. **

_Shit_, Eddie thinks, _maybe I would like that_. He thinks he hears himself moaning Venom's name. 

**Oh Eddie, this is only the beginning for us. **Venom growls, **We are **_**one**_**. **

And all at once, they _are_. Orgasm is Venom coming roaring through his skin as their body darkens and swells and erupts in a climax too long and intense to process. Something cracks under the grip of huge, black claws—possibly part of the headboard. Eddie doesn't care. The world goes white, and small, and far away. Eddie finds himself lying naked on his bed, as Venom liquifies around him, too shattered to hold a form that slips through Eddie's fingers like a caress. 

He closes his eyes. 

* * *

Eddie kind of drifts for a while after, in the pleasantly euphoric state that follows a really good orgasm. He's distantly aware of Venom having pulled himself back together and taken the wheel at some point, but with his symbiote fully emerged it never feels much like it's Eddie's body doing the moving—he's just the passenger, welcome to nod off if the ride stays smooth. Right now, he's sufficiently out of it that whatever Venom's up to isn't that distracting—no more so than having a partner roll out of bed to clean up while he drowses, listens to them moving around the room and waits for his turn in the shower—pleasant in the routineness of it all. 

Of course, with Venom around, showers are shared by necessity, and 'routine' includes such trivia as his favoured route from their window to the roof, spreading his weight between the sturdier ledges and lintels to avoid leaving obvious claw marks in the masonry. Being Venom doesn't leave Eddie blind, but things like space and impact (and, fortunately, vertigo) reach him filtered through several layer's worth of Venom's awareness, at least when he's not paying attention. So Eddie drifts, and dozes, and it's only after they've both been lazily enjoying the lights of San Francisco for some time, as seen from the rising vantage of their journey, that it fully occurs to Eddie that they must've left his apartment behind several rooftops ago. 

"V?" he asks, sleepily. 

_**Eddie**_. Venom's voice is thick with affection. His progress up their current wall slows to a halt, feet lodged into some hidden recess, hanging casually from one arm and craning his head over a shoulder so they can both enjoy the view. 

"Where are we?" He's still too relaxed to be alarmed—maybe that will alarm him later, maybe not—but just awake enough to be curious. 

**Out,** says Venom, unhelpfully—as usual, blissfully unconcerned with details like lowly earthling street-names. The breeze brings in the smell of the sea, the sound of someone doing impromptu karaoke to some recent pop-hit Eddie only half-recognises, and an isolated car-horn. In San Francisco, that could put them almost anywhere. 

"_Out_, okay." Possibly Eddie is asking the wrong question here. "Is this what they do after a blowjob on your planet? Go for a run?" 

**We do not have them on my planet. **This is the sort of statement Eddie is probably going to have to think about a bit more, when he's more awake, though Venom says it lightly. **But I found the experience **_**most**_** invigorating. **

Eddie laughs, charmed. "See, down here, we mostly just roll over and fall asleep." It's one more reminder of just how truly _alien _the person he just had sex with so inescapably is. Who has possibly just ruined Eddie for sex with any other member of his own boring human species ever again. Another thing he'll probably care about, later. Maybe. 

**Oh? **says Venom, knowingly. **Would that be before or after the **_**cuddling**_**? **His voice is too fond to be very mocking, which is for the best, as Eddie has too many endorphins in his system right now to process embarrassment. He should've known there was no hiding the fact he was a cuddler from the alien sharing his head. 

"During, usually?" Mind-blowing blowjobs aside, cuddling is one thing he can't really do with present company. Though having Venom spread all around him like this—does that count? It's kind of nice in some of the same ways—at least in Eddie's post-coital haze, where he's not awake enough to prickle at the idea that he and Venom have the kind of relationship that involves _cuddling_ now. 

**We can go back, if you like, **Venom offers. His tone suggests no preference either way.** I wanted to see the sky. I have seen it, now.**

Eddie supposes that if he's due for a crisis about all this within the next couple of hours, it'd be better to have it at home. Or maybe he could get some sleep and put that off to tomorrow morning. Let Venom blow him again, just for good measure, before he makes up his mind whether it's really worth losing his shit over. "Nah, don't rush back on my account, just dump me back in bed when you're done." Probably, Eddie should've thrown in some sort of _no after-dinner muggers, it'll ruin the afterglow-_clause, but he doesn't quite have the energy. 

**With pleasure. **For a moment, Venom seems to look inward, resting a hand over his chest—over Eddie's chest, over his heart. Their heart. Then the moment is gone, and he's swinging them back up the building, into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated to the fic, but it seemed as good a place to mention it as any: I've recently posted an [add-on script for AO3](https://rallamajoop.tumblr.com/post/189798190219/ao3-author-tags-quicksearch-script) to edit fic headers to add user-friendly links to take you to more by the same author using the same tags, so you can see at a glance whether the author of any fic you've enjoyed has written more in the same fandom. Please do check it out and/or share around if that sounds useful.
> 
> Thank you all for reading - there should indeed be more from me in _this_ fandom in the very near future.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love <3


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